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Regaining That Which You Have Lost by baldragnarok16

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Chapter notes: I don't own any of the Naruto characters, settinsgs, or plots except for several OCs. This is a high school alternate universe, so beware that the characters may not completely be in character and their backgrounds may be changed.

‘Pain…something a human should never get used to.’


‘It’s immoral,’




‘and scarring.’

And the studded leather belt once again resonated against the weak, scarred, pallid flesh of his back before the man decided to lay it down on the table. The youth crumpled onto the floor in immense, fiery pain.

“Don’t you ever bully my daughter again, or else you’ll be out on the streets like your deadbeat father,” spat the man, walking out of the room and slamming the door, leaving the badly beaten boy on the floor.

‘Pain…something I am almost entirely used to; some human I am,’ disgustedly thought the boy. He didn’t even attempt to move his scarred body from the oak wood floor. He just propped his head up onto his chin, staring into the empty abyss that would be called a bedroom by definition; a bed in a room.

He lay there for the remainder of the night, until the bright, white moon slightly illuminated the beige flaking walls of Maiguske Kaito’s room. He then attempted to get onto his hands and knees with his raw, bleeding back irritating and doing its best to prevent him from doing so. After what seemed like an eternity of struggling, he forced his shaky body onto its two feet, still slightly wobbling, and he did what he did best; Maiguske Kaito fled.
He forcefully opened his dusty window and leapt out of it and landed on his two feet on the wet, muddy ground, ten feet from his window. His body screamed out in protest, but he ignored it as he tried running away from his stepfather’s house. He could barely keep his balance and his entire body, his back especially, protested, but he struggled onward towards his special place.

His bare feet slapped and sucked against the wet grass and his clothes were getting soaked through by the deluge coming from the dark clouds; and Kaito enjoyed it. He loved the rain, in fact, he loved water, period. That was the only reason that he had not totally despised moving from Iwa to Konoha; it never rained in Iwa. It was always dry and hot there with only rocky hills and cracked soil, but here, in Konoha, it rained often, but not so much as to drown the beautiful plant life. He enjoyed the refreshing feel of the ice cold rain on his broken and scarred body; it made him feel alive and it eased his raw muscles and flesh. After ten minutes of grueling running, he reached his special place; his sanctuary.

To anyone else, it may have been nothing but a simple children’s park, but to Kaito it was heaven. No one was there at this late time, especially when it was raining. He finally stopped running, leaning on a nearby pine tree that was sticky with sap to shortly rest his body and to catch his breath. It was here where everything in the world made sense, where he was could actually be Maiguske Kaito, where he could drop his fašade and no one could judge him for it. It was here where he could escape from everything, and everyone, in the world that caused him to feel such unbearable pain. For probably the thousandth time in his life, he observed every single aspect of the park; the soaked woodchips that expanded the entirety of the playground area, the chipped, ugly purple paint of the metal poles supporting bridges, tunnels, slides and the like, the immobile swings hanging on creaky metal chains, and the tree. The tree was the main attraction for him though.

It was tall, taller than the school that he attended, had thousands upon thousands of fragile leaves suspended by thick, tough skinned branches that extended every which way, and its bark was battered and weathered throughout the years, giving it a wizened appearance. And if you sat under it and looked through the leaves at the right angle, you could see the moon and its illuminating shadow, casting a dull light on anything under its eye.

Kaito then limped over to “his” tree and sat on one of its thick roots. He then rested his head onto the wet, rough bark and looked up into the beautiful emerald green leaves; they were outlined perfectly by the dull illumination of the moon. He then closed his eyes and whispered a single phrase;
“I’m home, Mother.”

He then slowly opened his heavy eyelids and looked out onto the horizon, which was a dark, rich blue that outlined various houses and buildings. He sighed heavily in painful remembrance and cried.

He let all of the emotions that were building up in his mind to flow out as salty tears that stained his pallid face with their pain. He then truly let his emotions out and broke out into true hysterics; sobbing, crying, and shaking.

And the only solaces he had were the cold rain that was steadily pouring from the dark sky and the moon that was faintly outlining his sitting body; two solaces that were never always there and even when they were, could only help so much.
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